


Breath of Fire

by Camellia_Sinensis



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Adventure, Attempt at Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Cultural Differences, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, sprinkle of angst here and there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-28 14:40:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13906179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camellia_Sinensis/pseuds/Camellia_Sinensis
Summary: Lynels are solitary creatures, and this Lynel is no different - that is, he WAS, until a small, strange Hylian invades his territory (and his heart).In which Link and his new Lynel friend try not to give everyone heart-attacks on their journey to save Hyrule. Maybe trying to register a Lynel at the horse stable wasn't the greatest idea...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea I’ve been playing with for a loooong time—almost a year, in fact—but I didn’t really know how to go about it. I recently was inspired by Thorinsmut’s Link/Lynel fic https://archiveofourown.org/works/13566303/chapters/31133478 (which is SO GOOD, please give it a read—the writing is to die for) and thought I’d finally put this out to the world. This is a fairly light-hearted story, with an emphasis on adventure. I head-canon lynels as being pretty darn smart and quick learners, so there’s not gonna be a lot of “Me, Tarzan. You, Jane.” moments, ya dig. This is also probably gonna be a bit of a long story, so please have patience <3

In all his years, the Lynel could not say he has ever seen a Hylian behave so strangely. Since mid-morning, the Hylian has been watching him. Well, maybe watching isn’t quite the word. It has been glancing toward the Lynel every so often, not with a look of fear, but interest. If the creature were any closer, the Lynel would take it as a threat and dispose of it as such. However, the Hylian is quite far away, past a steep ravine. It is not invading the Lynel’s territory—which is the most important thing—and therefore it will be allowed to live. For now.

And if the creature proves itself a greater nuisance, a shock arrow will make quick work of it.

As it is now, the Lynel finds himself watching the small Hylian in return. It occasionally shifts its focus away from the Lynel to explore the area and fight the moblins and bokoblins that live just outside of the Lynel’s territory. If anything, those monsters are a greater annoyance as they scare off prey and are revived every blood moon. The Lynel used to kill them on a regular basis, but it is just a waste of arrows at this point.

The creature, despite its tiny stature seems to be fairly well-versed in combat—another of its strange qualities. In the Lynel’s experience, Hylians are more quick to run than to fight, and when they do fight, it is usually in great numbers.

So yes, this Hylian is quite odd.

With a note of amusement, the Lynel noticed the Hylian has completely cleared the moblin hideout and seems to be considering the weapons that it has found. It won’t find much. The weapons of those lesser monsters are, in a simple word, pathetic. The Hylian seems to agree as it tosses a number of weapons and shields into the ravine.

The sun descends, and the little Hylian lights a fire at the base of the camp before cooking something in a pot. The scent wafts up to the Lynel’s plateau and is somehow quite pleasant—spicy even. He watches the Hylian eat quickly. Night has fallen and with it comes a chill that is familiar in these mountains. The Lynel suspects that with just the dim light of the moon, the creature can no longer see his intimidating form.

Unlike Hylians, Lynels’ eyes can see clearly in pitch black and across great distances, so he has no trouble watching the Hylian stoke the fire before ascending the wooden ladders of the hideout to sleep. The Lynel feels himself begin grow weary as well and tucks his legs under his body, still facing toward the oddity. He lets his eyes close, but just before he can truly fall asleep, a distant chirp alerts him to an approaching keese. The keese is not approaching him, however, but instead the small, sleeping Hylian across the ravine.

Without so much as opening his eyes, he shoots an arrow through the keese and hears it’s death wail. The Hylian sleeps on, none-the-wiser, and the Lynel follows behind shortly after.

 

* * *

 

As time passes the Lynel sees the Hylian surprisingly often. From atop his rocky plateau, the Lynel can see quite a lot of land, actually, but the Hylian is so small that keeping track of him is not always easy. Occasionally, the Hylian comes back after blood moons—which seem to be occurring quicker and quicker these days—to slay the moblins and bokoblins across the ravine. Each time he does, he’ll take a moment to watch the Lynel and every time the Lynel will stare back.

The tiny creature does not ever seem afraid of his appearance, making the Lynel question its intelligence. Granted, the Hylian is smarter than the monsters, so perhaps it is not dumb, but ignorant. Maybe it has never encountered a Lynel before. Or perhaps the Hylian’s eyesight is worse than the Lynel once thought and cannot clearly see his impressive stature. Regardless, the Hylian has never invaded his territory and is therfore left alone. And “alone” is truly the correct word to use, as the Hylian is never seen accompanied by others of its kind. No other Hylian dares to travel the dangerous rocky terrian—it makes him question whether the creature is even a Hylian at all.

But, surely, with that small body and those pointed ears, it could be nothing else.

It has become somewhat of a routine for him to watch that tiny creature wreak havoc on the other monsters. In fact the Lynel has recently taken up the game of shooting the monsters who get too close to the cliff ledge and watching them tumble down into the inky darkness.

The Hylian must find his involvement agreeable, because it leads the monster it’s fighting to the edge of the cliff waiting for the Lynel to shoot it off.

When he does, the Hylian looks over with a face of triumph. Lynels are generally solitary creatures, but this instance of cooperation was satisfying enough. He nods to the Hylian, still unsure of its ability to see him at this distance, but the Hylian nods back.

Then the Hylian walks to the closest point of the rocky plateau and raises its hand in what the Lynel knows to be a greeting among Hylians. He does not return the action, though, instead merely hitching his bow to its harness and walking away. Lynels are not, and will never be social creatures. They do not even care for the company of their own kind, let alone very strange and small Hylian warriors.

 

* * *

 

The Lynel’s land is large, but he has considered expanding it recently. He’s noticed a recent surge of his power, and the coloring on his mane is lightening considerably, while the fur along his chest is beginning to show patches of sky blue. With this recent growth in strength has come a territorial fierceness that he hasn’t felt in many years. Normally he doesn’t mind small animals coming near his den, but now he roars at even the birds who fly too low.

A part of his mind knows it’s irrational, these animals are too small to be prey and too stupid to be a threat. He only hopes he will be able to go back to ignoring them again soon.

He prowls along the perimeter of his territory. Leaving claw marks in rocks and upturning patches of grass to let any wanderers know just whose land this is. It does little to ease the itch, but he can think of nothing else to do for the moment.

On his journey back to his den, a blue chuchu pops up from the ground and is promptly sliced through. He roars, louder than ever has before, angry not just at the invader, but at the heat clawing in his chest. He bellows out a sea of fire in hopes to ease the persistent ache. It does little more than scorch the ground of his land.

He pants and huffs, like he had galloped all day with no break. His outbursts have so far been ineffective and the day is quickly reaching its end. Perhaps the cool air of nighttime will ease the angry heat muddling his mind.

It’s with a hazy head that the Lynel trudges back to his den. Even the rustling of grass and the buzzing of insects puts him on high-alert. Any creature who might be unfortunate enough to cross him better pray to the Goddess for mercy, because he surely has none to give.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are enjoying this fic and want to support me (or would like to commission a fic) consider buying me a coffee https://ko-fi.com/haruble 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Next chapter will be out very soon <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically the Lynel is that old neighbor yelling at kids to get off his lawn.

Link is no idiot. At least, not usually. Despite not having most of his memories, he’s pretty intuitive when it comes to fighting and surviving. Maybe it’s muscle memory or pure instinct, but it’s certainly not just dumb luck. So yes, Link knows this is a terrible idea, but finds himself climbing up toward the Lynel’s plateau nevertheless. The incessant beeping of the sheikah slate only grows more frequent as he continues upward, reminding him of why he’s even doing this in the first place.

He hasn’t seen the Lynel at all today and figures now is probably the only chance he’ll get to go to that shrine. Still, he doesn’t exactly know where the shrine is, just it’s somewhere in these mountains. Daylight’s also starting to get pretty thin, so he’ll need to work quickly. Link just hopes the Lynel will stay put, wherever he is, so he can get in and out without being maimed.

While the Lynel might be civil enough when Link is 200 meters away past a seemingly bottomless pit, Link’s sure it’ll be a different story if he’s caught invading the Lynel’s land.

He’s fought a Lynel before, and it’s not something he’s eager to do again. He didn’t even defeat it before making a tactical retreat. Those shocks arrows were handy, but not worth dying for.

So, it’s with a racing heart that Link finally pulls himself up and surveys the area. No sign of the Lynel—or any other creature for that matter. It’s almost eerily quiet. The only sounds that greet his ears are the continuous beeping of the slate and the cold wind buffeting against his clothes. Under any other circumstance, Link might take a moment to appreciate the view, but he’s too anxious to get out of the Lynel’s territory.

With no time to waste, he starts to run, the slate guiding him farther into the rocky terrain. There are some tufts of grass here and there, but otherwise the ground is barren. Link wouldn’t be surprised if the only animals who climb up here are mountain goats and cold-footed wolves.

Link is honestly shocked when he finds the shrine as quickly as he does. It’s not tucked away or hiding behind a rock or anything. It’s plain as day, just waiting for him. He’d think it’s his lucky day if it weren’t for the words “major test of strength” echoing in his head.

It a hard-won fight, but doesn’t feel worth it at all. His weapons are on their last legs, and he feels fatigued even with the monk’s blessing, so he isn’t prepared at all for the ambush of stalmoblins when he emerges from the shrine.

They get some good hits in, before Link can retaliate. It’s so dark that he can’t even tell how many there are. Swinging his sword wildly, he holds up his shield in desperation. If he weren’t surrounded, he’d pull out the sheikah slate and teleport away, but he isn’t even given a chance to breathe.

A distant sound—like boulders tumbling down a cliff, grows closer and closer and louder within seconds before a thunderous roar shakes the ground.

Link has no time to prepare for the impact that sends him flying. He lands on his back with a sickening thud. He hears chokes and splutters and realizes he can’t inhale. Vaguely, he sees a pink shimmer dance around his form and fly away. His head grows foggy and his eyes flutter before shutting completely.

 

* * *

 

The Lynel trudges slowly back to his den, still feeling the sweltering fire burning in his center. A stalkoblin raises from the ground only to be crunched to dust under his hoof. The violence of the act actually seems to help ease the anger muddling his mind. If he is still feeling this terrible itch come morning, he will go beyond his borders and kill any of those lesser creatures who make nuisances of themselves near him home.

His ear twitches. More stals seem to have just risen from the ground nearby. Normally he doesn’t bother with the skeleton creatures that only appear at night. They are so fragile they aren’t worth his time nor energy. Not to mention they just reappear the next night and so forth. But today is a different story. He could use a distraction.

With that in mind, he pulls out his blade and rears back on his hind legs before taking off at full speed toward the stals. The feeling of bloodlust overwhelms him and he belts out a roar as he charges forward.

The stalmoblins don’t even see him coming before he rams right through them. If he were in his right mind, he would question why there were so many congregated here, next to the odd, glowing rock. But the way he is now, he doesn’t even realize the usually orange glowing rock is now blue, and that the telltale scent of blood is permeating the area, despite the skeletons being comprised of only bones and magic.

None of this occurs to him as he hacks away at the stals, reveling in the slaughter even after they’ve all been slain. In fact, it’s only after the red haze of fury has passed that he sniffs the air and smells something quite familiar.

A Hylian.

Not just any Hylian, but the strange, tiny Hylian who frequents the outer-parts of his domain.

The creature lays still, and pale, with its limbs askew, looking dead if not for the shuddering movement of its chest.

Its pitiful. So pitiful, in fact, that even the rampant rage he has wrestled with all day is barely even an ember in his chest. It’s like watching a bird whose wing has been broken. It will never fly again, and will therefore die a slow, miserable death. If he were to kill this creature now, it would be merely a mercy killing.

For the first time ever, he is considering walking away from an invader. One who has, thus far, seemed smart enough to respect the borders of the Lynel’s land.

It makes the Lynel wonder why it’s even here in the first place. He looks down at the dusty remains of the stals and then up at the glowing rock, only just realizing the change in color. Was it interested in this rock perhaps? Is the Hylian the reason for its change of color?

The Lynel does not dwell on these questions. He is growing tired now that the flames of anger have passed.

His blade feels heavy in his hands, and he wields it hesitantly. The strange Hylian is obviously a warrior, and should be honored with a warrior’s death—not this pitiful, slow end. The sharp metal glints above the creature’s thin neck, but he cannot bring his arm to move any farther. The small warrior has fought and triumphed many times. It is one of the strongest warriors he has ever seen. And stals are weak—not even a fraction as strong as this Hylian. So what could have caused the battle to end like this?

His vision flashes to his own angry snarls and blind rage. He can barely remember the slaughter, as he had given himself entirely to his instincts. But that would explain it.

He had been the cause of this.

The Hylian’s pulse races along its neck, yet its chest moves with sluggish breaths. Blood mars its mouth and chin, but he can detect nothing else amiss.

He pulls the blade back. Who was he trying to fool? Himself? The Goddess? The Calamity? At this point he wouldn’t be able to harm this vulnerable creature unless it attacked him outright.

The Hylian weighs almost nothing in his arms, so carrying it back to the den is no struggle. It also is so small that it takes up barely any room on the Lynel’s bed of pelts.

The Lynel takes a moment to familiarize himself with the Hylian, wanting to know more about it if it will be in his den. He removes its weapons and then the thin coverings wrapped around the Hylian’s chest and limbs. It seems like ineffective armor at first glance, but the Lynel can detect a sizzle of magic that permeates the cloth. He learns that the creature is quite likely a male Hylian if his lower organs are anything to go by. Along with the armor and weapons, he removes a flat stone that somehow reminds him of the glowing rock from earlier.

He sets everything aside and sniffs along the creature's neck, trying to memorize the intricacies of his scent. The Hylian smells young, but is clearly old enough to be a tried and true warrior. While the Lynel is not too knowledgeable about the typical Hylian aging process, he would guess that this Hylian has only recently reached maturity.

He doesn’t smell like he’s dying anymore, but other than that, the scent reveals nothing more about the Hylian.

His eyelids grow heavy, but he refuses to sleep in such close proximity to what could still be a threat. He grabs not only his blade, but all the weapons the Hylian had on him before leaving the den. He will sleep next to the cave, facing it. And should the Hylian awaken, he will be unarmed and unable to truly hurt the Lynel should he attack.

With these thoughts in mind, the Lynel tucks his legs under his body and settles in for a light rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, we're making progress!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

“Nn,” Link groans, rolling to one side to ease the pain radiating from his back. The all-over ache just continues to grow. His head hurts, and his mouth feels dry.

He peeks his eyes open, somehow not surprised to see an almost pitch black wall in front of him. He turns and roves his eyes along what appears to be the walls of a large cave. A soft, blue light filters in from the entrance and the sound of restless crickets fills his ears.

His body doesn’t want to move, but he forces himself to at least sit up. The cave is too dark to make out many details, but he’s fairly sure he’s alone in here. He suddenly becomes very aware of just how naked he is. Very naked. And very cold.

He can just barely make out his clothes in the darkness, sitting in a rumpled pile on a rock near his legs. Reaching for them causes a hiss of pain, but he manages to pull them toward himself and dresses despite his body’s protests. His weapons, and more importantly, the Sheikah Slate, are nowhere to be found.

He needs to get his bearings. What is this place and how did he get here? His memories are a little fuzzy—but what else is new for the hero of Hyrule. He was on Hyrule Ridge, near that moblin hideout that always has pretty good loot, and then…

Oh. Right. He went to find the shrine hiding in the Lynel’s territory and got a thorough beat down. He sure should have seen that coming. But that still doesn’t explain one: why he’s still alive, and two: what this place is. It’s not like there’s anyone living on this mountain ridge who’d be able to give him a place to rest like this.

Well. No one except…

The Lynel.

He’d slap himself if his head didn’t hurt so bad.

But really. Does he really think that a Lynel, one of the most dangerous, violent, and merciless creatures in all of Hyrule, would really drag him back to his lair with good intentions. Okay, so maybe he hit his head a bit too hard.

But still, what other explanation is there? His head flops into his hands and he fights a groan. Maybe the Lynel did bring him back here, and now he’s gonna be tortured slowly before being devoured. That’s honestly a more logical conclusion.

Okay, so he should obviously escape before he becomes Lynel chow. But how exactly should he do this? For all he knows, the Lynel could be waiting right outside, armed to the teeth with shock arrows and a sword that weighs as much as the average Hylian. Not to mention that Link has nothing but the literal clothes on his back.

There doesn’t seem to be anything of use in this cave either. It’s pretty bare except for this pile of furs he’s sitting on. In fact, it’s a pretty large pile at that—large enough for four, maybe five people to sleep comfortably on.

Absently, he runs his fingers through the silky fur. He can’t exactly stay here, but he can’t just escape either. Even if he doesn’t find his weapons, he needs the Sheikah Slate. It’s not replaceable.

It’s probably back near the shrine where he passed out. Now is the best time to go get it, he figures. Whoever lives in this cave is clearly not home right now.

He shifts his weight once again to stand, clearly not ready for the intense vertigo that has him tumbling right back down.

“Aggh...” he groans, thankful for the soft furs he landed on.

A growl resounds from just outside the cave’s entrance and Link holds his breath, eyes wide.

That… can’t be good.

Link’s heart races and a sense of panic begins to overwhelm him. He has no weapons, no way of getting out of here, and the cave is suddenly feeling much smaller than when he first awoke. The walls, nearly pitch black, seem to be getting closer and closer with every panicked breath.

He needs to get out of here.

Everyone’s counting on him.

He can’t save Hyrule if he’s dead.

The only way out is that one exit, so he has to make a run for it. His head throbs, but he stands again. This time he stays upright and manages a clumsy step forward, then another, and another, before he’s stumbling his way to the exit. His vision blurs and his ears are ringing, but he keeps going.

Outside of the cave, he sees it.

Its massive legs are tucked beneath its barrel-like body and the torso is hunched forward.

Link feels all the air around him disappear. He can’t move. He can’t breathe.

The Lynel’s eyes are shut, but its nose twitches and another growl rumbles in its chest. Its eyes, like glowing jade, snap open.

Link runs.

He doesn’t even see where he’s going. He just goes. He remembers Impa, Paya, Purah, the Bolson builders, and all the friends he’s made along the way. He wants to see them again, so he has to run.

He feels more than hears the rumble of hooves thundering into the ground behind him but he doesn’t stop. And he’s not at all prepared for the ground to disappear from right under him and to go flying off the cliff.

It’s too far. The ground is too far and there’s nothing he can grab on to.

Instinctively, he reaches for his paraglider, but that’s gone too.

The ground is coming closer and closer and the only thing he can do is close his eyes and brace himself.

Behind him there is a guttural roar.

Warmth wraps around his waist and he’s pressed against something firm.

He doesn’t hit the ground, but is instead only jostled by the impact.

A breathless moment passes and his fingers are white with how hard he’s clutching onto whatever is holding him. Distantly, he feels himself trembling. Hot air puffs against his pointed ears and Link finally looks up. Jade eyes meet his. He doesn’t feel fear looking into those glowing orbs, but that’s probably due to the shock of the situation.

For a moment, his head lolls and his vision darkens. The pain from earlier is hitting him harder now that the adrenaline is wearing off.

He opens his mouth, as if to say something, before his eyes roll back and everything goes dark.

 

* * *

 

 

The next time Link awakens, he’s struck with a sense of déjà vu. He’s on the same soft bedding facing the same rocky wall of the cave from earlier, only now everything is brighter.

He stretches his back, fighting the grogginess of sleep, realizing he’s not nearly as naked as the first time he awoke.

Blue eyes follow the cracks and crevices on the walls up to the ceiling and then down to the other side to the cave’s opening where they stop. In the entrance is the Lynel, again sitting on his haunches, but this time he’s obviously awake looking right back at Link.

Link averts his eyes, trying not to come off as threatening to the creature who seemingly saved him from a deadly fall.

Link muffles a gasp. Next to the Lynel is the Sheikah Slate sitting atop Link’s weapons and other supplies.

The Lynel stands, his shadow massive, only to move and expose the entrance of the cave. He points at Links weapons, then at Link. He does this again before Link gets with the program and goes to pick up his supplies. He’s relieved to have the slate back, and even more relieved that this Lynel is clearly giving him a chance to leave in peace.

He almost feels like he should thank the Lynel somehow, but before he can even mull the thought over his stomach growls.

The Lynel’s ear twitches and he huffs through his nose before clopping to a corner of the cave and pulling out a slab of dried meat. He tosses it to Link, who only barely manages to catch it. Now, Link wouldn’t call himself a picky eater by any means, but mysterious cave meat is not something he wants to try. Seeing Links hesitation, the Lynel’s eyes narrow and it approaches slowly.

“Eat.”

What.

What?

Link’s jaw is slack and his eyes are wide. Since when can monsters talk? Is he still dreaming? Did he actually die from that fall? Is this the afterlife?

The Lynel looks agitated, which is definitely not the direction Link wants this to go, so hesitantly he sinks his teeth into the meat. It’s dry, bland, and tough to chew, but other than that it seems okay. He swallows and the Lynel nods, satisfied with Link’s cooperation.

Okay, so if the Lynel can talk, Link should really thank him for the whole not murdering him thing. And the food. He should probably thank him for the food too.

“Thank you.” His voice is rough from lack of use.

The Lynel nods continuing to stare at him.

“Um.” Link starts digging through his supplies. Maybe a physical token of gratitude will suffice. Cats like fish, right? And there aren’t any large bodies of water near here, so the Lynel probably doesn’t get fish very often. “Here, you can have this. I-If you want.” He holds up the Hearty Bass. It’s large and still pretty fresh.

The Lynel blinks slowly at the fish in Link’s hand. He narrows his eyes at it and leans down to give it a sniff. His eyes widen in interest and he sniffs at it some more before taking it from the small Hylian.

“Where does one find such a fish?”

Link jumps at the sudden voice, but collects himself quickly enough.

“Um. I c-caught it near Zora’s Domain.”

The Lynel opens his maw, exposing long and sharp teeth as it bites the head of the fish clean off. A swishing noise fill the cave, and Link notices the Lynel’s tail is flicking back and forth as he continues to eat the fish.

A rumbling purr resonates from the Lynel’s chest and Link begins to again question his lucidity.

The Lynel finishes his meal, looking entirely too content and sleepy for an otherwise terrifying creature of his size.

“Where is this 'Zora’s Domain?'”

Link pauses, “Well, it’s in Lanayru, so it’s pretty far away.”

The Lynel does that huff sound again and licks his lips, trying to get every last bit of the fishy flavor.

“I could bring you some more, if you want.”

The Lynel’s eyes close in what seems to be contemplation.

“No,” his rough voice rumbled, “you will take me there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaaat??? An escort mission for a Lynel??? Stay tuned for more wacky shenanigans with the elf-boy and his cat-horse!
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
